


Solstice

by alwaysastorm



Category: Formula 1 RPF
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angst, Angst and Porn, Arguing, Bottoming, Drunkenness, Filthy, First Time Bottoming, Injury, M/M, Porn, Rimming, Shameless Smut, Shower Sex, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-09
Updated: 2017-07-09
Packaged: 2018-11-29 14:17:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,624
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11442618
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alwaysastorm/pseuds/alwaysastorm
Summary: This is what happens when you begin a smutty fic to deal with Felipe's retirement and then it is never completed because the retirement doesn't happen, but you don't want the smut to go to waste even though the fic is very, very rough (it really is, and I apologize, because this would have and should have been better). This was meant to be a post-retirement opus. Instead it's just barely finished filth. Excuse any typos, repetition, general crap-ness. This honestly shouldn't be seeing the light of day.





	Solstice

They'd sat on the rocks together. Rob had been there alone for at least an hour; his bare, freckled shoulders taking the brunt of the unrelenting Ibizan heat. He'd been attempting to skim stones, trying to get as close to the horizon as possible - that _orangepurpleyellow_ point where the sky met the ocean that was as beautiful as anything he had ever seen but made him ache.

“I'm stopping, I think,” the figure said, sitting down beside him, one knee audibly cracking.

Rob didn't even look in his new companion's direction. He nodded.

“I know.”

*

“You're drunk?” Felipe asked with a quirk of his eyebrow. He didn't wait for an answer as he motioned for Rob to come in. 

“Had a few on the plane, didn't I.”

Rob dropped his bag onto the tiled floor of the apartment he knew so well, and swept the hair from out of his eyes with his hand. He sighed, leaning against the wall and licking a bead of sweat from his top lip. Monaco was stiflingly hot, and he wanted nothing more than to be out of the navy t-shirt that was clinging to his skin. 

“What?” he eventually asked, feeling vaguely irritated by the way Felipe was standing there silently in front of him, hands clenched into loose fists, chewing on his bottom lip the way he always fucking did.

Felipe shrugged.

“I don't know.”

“You don't know?”

“Why you're... why I...”

“Why I'm here? You were the one who invited me.”

Rob tutted, getting his cigarettes from his bag. 

Felipe pointed. “You can't...”

“I know, I know. I wouldn't smoke in here anyway.”

He pulled one out of the pack and slid it onto the top of his ear.

“Can I at least smoke it outside? Or are you worried about someone _seeing_ me here?”

He didn't give Felipe the opportunity to answer as he sat down onto a sun lounger to light up. He'd only just arrived and was being a fucking prick, he knew that. The heat and the five vodkas he'd had on the flight here had him feeling edgy. This wasn't the way things were meant to happen this weekend.

“She in Brazil?”

“Yes. For the winter. I'm here to pack some things up.”

“Plenty of time to erase all traces of me then, eh?”

Rob swore lightly under his breath. He felt like he was standing watching himself – and he was being a right cunt. He was aware of Felipe's presence behind him, leaning against the patio door, white polo shirt tight against his tanned frame.

“You've been here before.”

“Not like this.”

Felipe was right. He'd been there many, many times. But she'd always been there too, or had gone out, safe in the knowledge that they'd only be talking about work, or kicking a football around the patio. That old unspoken rule that they'd stuck to all these years had always held firm. _Not in my home_.

“Sorry mate. I'm being a dickhead. It's just... this fucking situation, you know? It's easier for me just to behave like a twat and act like I don't give a fuck.”

“I know.”

“I know you know.” Rob's chest tightened. “No-one knows me better.”

Felipe looked shyly down at the floor, shrugging slightly.

“You want a beer?”

“I need another vodka.”

“With coke?”

“Just ice.”

Rob followed Felipe into the kitchen, admiring the smaller man's lithe frame as he bent down to get some ice cubes from the large American freezer. The clink of glass was the only sound as he took two tumblers from the cupboard, and a chilled bottle of Absolut from the fridge.

With beer, Rob got dancy and huggy. Wine made him feel sleepy and horny. Vodka made him either want to fight or fuck. Any _indiscretions_ he'd made throughout his life had been as a result of vodka.

He placed his hand over Felipe's as the Brazilian began to take a handful of ice cubes from the bag.

“Let me.”

Rob took a cube between his thumb and index finger. Standing behind Felipe, he jerked his thighs forward. They clashed against Felipe's waist – good old height difference – and he was able to push Felipe against the counter top.

“...Lift up your t-shirt.”

Felipe obliged, sliding the thin material upwards so that the hem sat just above his nipples. Under any other circumstances it might look comical, but both of their breathing quickened, and Rob gave a wicked, dry chuckle.

“Nice.”

He reached around to Felipe's front, circling his right nipple with the ice cube. Felipe gasped and swore, and bucked backwards slightly.

“Fuck. Is cold.”

“Funny that, being ice,” Rob hissed, continuing to trail the ice between Felipe's now-erect nipples.

Felipe reached back, rubbing Rob's crotch and attempting to get to the zipper on his jeans. Rob pushed his hips forward, the backs of his thighs flush with Felipe's ass. He moved the ice cube down the middle of Felipe's chest and stomach, and then slid his wet fingers down underneath Felipe's waistband, pushing the ice cube below his underwear. Rob imagined a damp patch on the front of Felipe's briefs, caused by melting ice and precome, and his own cock sprang to life. He pressed Felipe against the counter, rutting against the driver as he felt his hardness beginning to strain against his clothing. 

“Let me make a mess of you,” he growled.

Felipe gave the tiniest of nods, practically imperceptible. But his dark eyes were heavy; his chest heaving as he turned around, wrapping his arms around Rob's neck and standing on tiptoes to kiss him. Hungry and hot, they staggered backwards into the hallway. Felipe's intentions were to make it to the bedroom, but Rob slammed him against the wall, hard enough for the photographs that were hung up to rattle. Rob bit Felipe's earlobe, ordering Felipe to get his clothes off. Rob pushed Felipe's trousers down and Felipe pulled the t-shirt up over his head. He kicked his trousers off completely and then Rob's hands were on his shoulders, pushing him downward until he was lying on the cold terracotta tiles. His back hit the floor and his thighs fell open. Placing a hand behind his head, he looked up at Rob, who was standing above him, legs wide apart as he unbuckled his belt. The noise of the metal made Felipe lick his lips in anticipation and Rob moaned at him to keep doing that. The other man's face was reddened from booze and the slight shame of the filthy things he was saying; things he'd never said. Things he'd barely even allowed himself to think. But when he was drunk, and almost maddened with arousal, and desperate, so desperate, they clawed their way upwards from the deepest, darkest recesses of his soul and escaped from his lips.

_Spread your legs a bit more, let me see all of you. Wanna touch yourself for me? Yeah let me see you fuck your own hand. That's right, grab that dick, fucking stroke it. Rub your thumb across the head. Yeah like that, fuck, like that, yeah keep going. Gonna come all over you and you're gonna take it like a good boy._

Felipe couldn't take his eyes off Rob as the Englishman loomed above him. His jeans were open and he'd pulled his dick out of his underwear. It was hard and leaking, but Rob didn't touch it, he just took a few steps forward so that his feet were on either side of Felipe's knees. 

_Keep going. Keep touching yourself. Pretend it's my cock that's in your hand._

Felipe stared at Rob's hard-on, thinking about all the times he'd touched it, all the times he'd tasted it, all the times it had been inside him. He took his own cock in his hand, and while it was shorter and thicker, he closed his eyes and imagined it was Rob's. He ran his fingertips up and down the shaft lightly, knowing how Rob always said how that tickled him. He felt his legs begin to shake, his mouth hanging open in pleasure, and his inhibitions completely disappear as he felt his orgasm nearing. A bead of precome was at the tip of his cock, and he stuck a finger out to swipe it off, opening his eyes again to look at Rob, who nodded.

_Do it._

Felipe licked his finger, and Rob moaned. The wanton sound was too much, and Felipe couldn't hold back any more. He licked his palm and started rubbing himself quickly, his legs spread wide and his hips moving up and down. He watched as Rob retrieved his pack of cigarettes from his jeans pocket and lit one, watching as Felipe stroked himself languidly. Felipe watched Rob take a long, slow drag, exhaling upward but never once removing his gaze from Felipe. The Brazilian twisted his the head of his dick around with his thumb and index finger a few times, and Rob gave grunts of approval.

_Gonna come soon are you?_

_Yeah._

Felipe looked up at Rob, whose cock was bobbing against his stomach now, looking slippery and turgid as it dripped precome. Rob put his cigarette between his lips and started to jerk off, smoking handless as he timed the movement of his fist with Felipe's. He swore as beneath him, Felipe came with a cry, shooting spunk all over his own hand and stomach. He began to wipe it, but Rob shook his head.

_Leave it._

Rob got down onto his knees and slid forward so that Felipe's chin was between his legs.

_Open your mouth._

Felipe complied, looking up at Rob's face as it was enveloped in a cloud of smoke as he sucked and exhaled. Rob took the head of his cock and ran it along Felipe's bottom lip, leaving a slick trail of spit and precome. He pushed it in further, letting it lie heavy and throbbing on Felipe's tongue. Felipe narrowed his mouth, trapping it in wet, tight heat. Rob was panting now, cigarette dangling from the side of his mouth and burning down towards the filter. He took it out, taking a drag as he pulled out of Felipe's mouth with a wet pop and exploded all over his lips and chin. He slid his dick through the mess he'd made, a long string of come between Felipe's cheek and the tip of his cock as he eventually pulled away.

*

Rob had stopped using his glass hours ago. Swigging straight from the bottle of Absolut gave him more of a burn in his gut. And he wanted that feeling; the searing cold sting of neat alcohol that would eventually make him numb. And he needed to be numb.

It was dark now. He leant against the wall of Felipe's balcony, the bottle in one hand and a cigarette in the other. It had been a long time since he'd chainsmoked like this, but he was shitfaced and sad, and the combination wasn't a good one when it came to his resolve to smoke less. He wished he could see more of the stars instead of the orangey haze from Monaco's street lights. He'd always loved the stillness of the night sky combined with those first chills of Autumn. He took another swig, swirling the vodka around in his mouth, trying not to think about how he'd feel in the morning – even though technically it was _already_ the morning – although even without a hangover, he knew he was going to feel pretty terrible anyway.

“Are you coming back inside?”

He could hear Felipe's soft footsteps behind him, the slapping sound of flip flops one he'd heard countless times before. It was usually followed by the sensation of warm arms wrapping themselves around his trim waist, and soft lips pressed against his shoulder.

“Nah.”

“Huh?”

“No.”

Rob flicked his cigarette onto the tiled patio floor, a wave of emptiness suddenly enveloping him; the air of despondency clouding his thoughts and actions.

Felipe made to reach out and touch Rob's wrist, but the older man flinched away. His chestnut hair was messy, sticking up in peaks at the crown and looking slightly greasy at the sides. He looked stunning; flushed cheeks and kiss-swollen lips. The top button of his jeans remained undone, and his t-shirt had sweat patches under the arms. It had been quite an evening.

“Why couldn't you have just left me alone?” Rob suddenly said, defeat in his voice. His shoulders were slumped. He gripped the neck of the vodka bottle, and for a split second Felipe thought he was going to throw it.

“When? This weekend?” Felipe raised an eyebrow. 

“At Ferrari.” Rob sighed heavily and slumped against the wall, the back of his head hitting the brick. “I was happy, just working for the testing team. I loved it. Why did you have to take me away from that? Why did you have to make me _feel_?”

“Because we were friends. We worked well together.”

“I wish I hadn't said yes.”

“Nobody made you. I'm sorry that it was all such a big mistake.”

“Not a mistake,” Rob said hurriedly, the angry look in his eyes fading to one of despair. “It's just... everything I thought I knew about myself was fucking ruined the day I met you.”

Rob clenched his fists. Angry at himself for the things he spat out when he was sad and frustrated. It was worse when he knew he was speaking truthful things that would hurt someone he loved. He'd studied hard when he was younger. Well, sometimes he had. And all he'd wanted was to get into a good job in motorsport, marry a nice girl maybe, have mates he could have a pint or two with on a Friday night. Simple things. Because he was dependable and predictable, people said. But something within Rob meant that he had never taken the easy way - and Felipe had happened.

It should never have gone this fucking far. They'd said they'd stop. So many times. Too many times. And they never had.

Felipe flashed him a look that spoke of shock and betrayal. He turned away, and walked back into the apartment, leaving Rob to stand there under the dim patio light. It was flickering, the bulb long since needing replaced, but that was a job for another day, another time when he'd be back here, even though he didn't know when that would be.

“Felipe,” came Rob's voice, pleading and guilty. That same tone he'd used to say his name after Hockenheim. After Austin. _Felipe. I have to do what I'm told. You know it's not up to me. You know I..._

Felipe whipped around, pointing at Rob. Jaw set firm, his eyes narrowed, and his mouth turned down into a sneer. 

“You think it is just you who feels like this, huh? You think I liked always people speaking about me like I couldn't do anything without you? Like I couldn't win without you? Everyone saying _Oh Rob he is so great_ but never saying that about me?

Rob's form appeared from out of the shadows, squaring up to Felipe, as much as he could given the difference in their height.

“Everyone thought I chased after _you_ to Williams. Like some prick who couldn't find a career for themselves. May I fucking remind you that you're retiring on _your_ terms, with fucking _millions_ in the bank. I have to keep working, keep having people like Ted fucking Kravitz asking me a load of questions about you next season, like he knows me. Like he knows about _this_.”

Felipe waved a hand dismissively. Rob could sense the rage simmering inside the younger man. It didn't explode very often, but when it did, Rob knew to stand back, let Felipe erupt in a torrent of hand gestures and curse words, and let him get it out of his system. He'd never seen Felipe's face like this though – resentful and venomous; wanting to blurt out everything that had lay dormant within him and unsaid for years.

“Oh, you will be okay, I think, Rob. You're not the one who has lost the only thing they ever wanted to do. You get to still go to the circuit and be in the garage. I don't. So you know what? Fuck you, Rob. Fuck you.”

Felipe threw a hand up and turned on his heel. Rob reached out, grabbed his wrist and tried to pull him back outside. In the back of his mind there was the vague worry that a neighbour would hear what was going on, but vodka always made his worries cloudy. That was why he drank it.

“No!” Felipe exclaimed, tearing himself from Rob's grasp.

“You don't get to speak to me like that,” Rob seethed.

“I can say what I fucking want. _Vai tomar no cu_!” Felipe prodded a finger in the centre of Rob's chest. He could feel its rise and fall as Rob breathed heavily through his nose, staring Felipe down. He reeked of alcohol and cigarettes, and for the first time Felipe felt ill at the tobacco smell that had always been oddly comforting in a way, because it was all Rob. Rob smacked his finger away, taking another swig of vodka, defiance in his eyes. 

He leant his face against Felipe's so their noses were almost touching. He could feel Felipe's body heat, fuelled by rage now and not lust as it has been earlier that evening.

“I'm glad this is over,” he spat. 

Felipe took two deep breaths and then backed away.

“I want you gone when I wake up,” he said, pointing to one of the sun loungers. “You can sleep there. Don't come into my home.”

“Fine!” Rob stood, arms aloft. “It's a lovely fucking night to sleep outside. Just me and my friend.” He held up the bottle, shaking it, a shit-eating grin on his face. He went to take a swig as he sat down on the sun lounger, but there was an almighty crash as he completely missed, falling backwards onto the ground in an undignified heap of limbs and broken glass. He tried to get himself back up, but succeeded only in slipping again, smashing the side of his face against the tiles and pressing the palm of his hand into a pile of glass, his blood soon mixing with spilt vodka.

“Jesus,” Felipe cried, rushing over and grabbing Rob's good hand to help him up. 

“Leave me, leave me,” Rob implored, holding his hand up and wincing at the sight of blood. “I just need to sit down.”

Felipe helped him to sit, watching as Rob awkwardly rested his arm against his thigh in order to hold his hand up.

“Don't move,” Felipe ordered, feeling completely sober now as he went to the bathroom to get antiseptic and plasters - things they'd kept here for Felipinho, not a drunken asshole in his 40s.

When he came back outside, Rob had his head in his hands. Felipe sat down beside him, tucking a finger under Rob's chin so the other man would look at him. When Rob raised his head, his eyes were full of tears and there was a cut on the side of his lip and a nasty bruise already appearing on his chin.

“Felipe, I'm...”

“Shh,” Felipe responded. “Give me your hand.”

Quietly and diligently, Felipe cleaned Rob's wound, gently removing a tiny shard of glass that was embedded into his flesh, and wiping the blood away carefully before applying cream and a large plaster. Rob hissed through his teeth at the sting of it, but didn't speak as Felipe worked, tongue clasped between his teeth in concentration. More pain. More injuries. 

_I think that knock on the head was an improvement_ , Rob had told him, the first time Felipe had asked for help changing his dressing. Felipe hadn't been shy about showing off the injury under his bandage at all; rather, it had been Rob who'd had trembling fingers, who'd felt himself trying to look anywhere on Felipe's face but the wound and stitches. Yeah, he'd made a big joke out of it. Taken the piss like he always had because he was so determined to show Felipe that everything was just going to go back to normal. But afterwards, he'd gone back to his own room and sobbed. He could still remember how he'd sat on the edge of the bed, head in hands, shedding tears because he was so scared of how all of it might affect Felipe – physically, emotionally. How it might affect them. Of course, it hadn't. Not for the bad anyway. 

“You said I wasn't losing anything,” Rob croaked.

Felipe dabbed away a bead of blood from Rob's bottom lip. “Well no.”

“I'm losing _you_ , Felipe.”

“You're not. You won't. We'll...”

“I can't do the long distance, Skype thing. We won't even be in the same fucking time zone most of the time. I can't do it, Felipe. I _can't_.”

*

The apartment was stiflingly hot when Rob woke up on the leather sofa. He tried to move a little – only a little, mind, or he'd have vomited – but found himself stuck, thanks to the mixture of sweat, blood and alcohol on his body. He hissed through his teeth as he slowly pulled himself upwards, wincing at the sensation of his skin tearing itself away from the leather. Like a sticking plaster coming off. He took two, three, four sharp breaths, trying to keep down the rising bile in his throat. The stereo was still playing some music from Felipe's iPhone, and it was too loud, too repetitive, too _everything_ for how he felt right now. His big toe brushed against something on the floor, and he shuddered until he looked down between his feet and saw that it was a cigarette, bent in the middle so it was rendered unsmokeable – not that he could even entertain the notion of a tab right now. His mouth was dry; his tongue feeling as if it had quadrupled in size and grown a layer of grey fur, and his stomach churned with nausea and that old _oh fuck what did I say and do_ anxiety.

“You want an espresso?”

“Tea,” Rob croaked. “Just tea.”

“You can have a banana. Full of potassium, no?”

“Fuck potassium.” Rob wiped the sleep from his eyes with his clammy fingertips. “A bacon sarnie would go down a treat.”

“I don't have that.”

“Fuck.”

“...or tea.”

“Fuuuuuck.”

Rob winced at the sound of cupboard doors opening and closing; the scrape of a plate being lifted from a pile of crockery, and the clink of a spoon against a mug. Felipe appeared with a mug of coffee and a croissant, setting it down on the coffee table.

“You eat.”

*

Rob made the water of the shower as cold as he could bear, hoping it would clear his head. Really, he wanted to tumble straight into bed and sleep for the next twelve hours, but time, perhaps more than he'd ever known, was too precious.

He stepped towards the jet of water fearfully, then braced himself and dipped his entire head under the cool water. This was nice. Between this and the fact he'd just cleaned his teeth three times in a row, he could see a possibility of feeling human again in the near future. Raffa had clearly cleared the bathroom out before leaving, because there was nothing in the shower aside from cheap supermarket shampoo and even cheaper shower gel. It was bright blue and smelt like nothing Rob had ever encountered in nature, but it would do.

“You need anything?” Felipe poked his head through the door, and Rob turned around in the cubicle, his hair in foamy shampoo peaks. 

“Would it be a cliché if I said I needed a hand?” he winked, tipping his head back to rinse his hair, and squeezing some shower gel into his palm. He rubbed his hands together and then soaped himself up, waiting for a response.

Felipe chewed on his bottom lip. 

“A cliché? Huh?”

Rob tutted.

“Jeeeesus. I mean - get in here, mate. You probably stink too.”

Felipe's lithe body was soon unclothed and sliding in beside him. Facing him, Rob raked his nails down each side of Felipe's head. Felipe gave a soft moan and a brief nod, wanting more. Rob's fingertips travelled across the back of his head, massaging the smaller man's scalp. He pressed his fingers against the nape of Felipe's neck, and Felipe leant against the pale blue tiles, groaning in satisfaction. 

“More,” he implored, and Rob's hands sloped down to his shoulders, digging his fingers into the taut muscles he found there, seeing the droplets fall from Felipe's face as they gradually moved backwards underneath the jet of now lukewarm water. Felipe closed his eyes and let his mouth fall open as Rob placed the flat of his hand against his sharp collarbones, letting his finger glide downwards to Felipe's nipples.

“Jesus, you're getting me hard,” Rob breathed, watching the rivulets of water fall down the centre of Felipe's chest and onto the thatch of dark hair at the bottom of his stomach and beyond. He'd always been the same; stinking hangovers making him unfeasibly horny. If Felipe hadn't appeared, he'd probably have had a guilty wank in the shower, fast and dirty and quiet. 

Felipe pushed Rob back against the wall, flicking a tongue between the seam of the other man's lips as he reached down between Rob's legs. Rob gave a shocked, if not disappointed, yelp as Felipe gave his balls a soft squeeze.

“You like?”

“Yeah I fucking like it.”

Felipe's tongue dived back into Rob's mouth as he kept squeezing, his fingers edging their way further backwards until soon Rob was panting heavily. This hangover had him feeling tired and pliant, willing to do whatever Felipe wanted, because he was fucked if he was capable of making any of his own decisions right now. The fresh smell of the shower gel and Felipe's espresso-tinged breath were making him feel heady, and then Felipe was telling him to turn around in a low, dangerous voice, and Rob was complying easily, with none of his usual protests.

Felipe's index finger stroked the delicate skin of his perineum, and Rob shook with a shiver at the ticklish sensation. 

“That feels...”

He didn't get to finish his sentence as Felipe's finger pressed upward. Rob felt a jolt. Another press, and his cock responded in kind, slapping even further against his stomach, the head red and bulbous. 

“Again.”

A couple more presses and Rob pressed his forearm against the slick tiles, leaning his head against them as he hissed curses through his teeth. 

“Fuck, Felipe. Fu... oh my god, _fuck_.”

Suddenly Felipe's touch was gone, and there was the sharp snapping noise of the shower gel being opened and closed. Rob bucked his hips gently, knowing what was coming next, knowing that this wasn't normally what he – they – did, but what Felipe had just been doing had felt so fucking good. He banished all thoughts of the things the lads back in his home town would have said about people who did things like the things they were about to do.

Felipe pressed his body against Rob's back, running his long tongue along the trail of freckles on Rob's shoulders. Rob remembered Felipe biting down on them the previous night, getting dangerously close to breaking the pale skin as he'd tried to stop himself from screaming out into the warm night air as Rob fucked him on the terracotta floor of the balcony.

“Ready?”

“Go easy with me.”

Rob held his breath, and Felipe softly admonished him. _Relax, will feel better. Will feel nice_. Felipe circled Rob's rim with a fingertip, spreading the shower gel so he could begin to ease his way in. the sound of the older man's moans steadily increasing in volume, so much so he was louder than the noise of the water, told Felipe he was doing everything okay, so he kept sliding one finger into the other man's hole, wiggling it against the soft heat at first, before shifting it from side to side until Rob was able to take another.

“That feels...”

“I know,” Felipe panted, sinking to his knees for better access. 

Rob spread his legs further apart as Felipe worked him good first with his fingers, then his fingers and tongue.

“Jesus Christ. Fuck. Dirty fucking bastard. Oh God, harder Felipe. Just fucking stick them in me hard.”

Felipe's own cock was already leaking pre-cum as swear words spilt from Rob's mouth. He crooked his middle finger, then circled the hard lump of nerves he found. He could see and feel Rob's thighs shaking, and soon Rob was practically yelling, making obscene noises the like of which Felipe had never heard. He started backing himself onto Felipe's fingers, fucking himself as Felipe hit his prostate over and over and over.

Rob felt his head getting light as Felipe kept thrusting his fingers deep inside him. He felt his body thrum with pleasure across the small of his back, the backs of his thighs, his ass, his cock. He wanted to grasp his dick and pump it as fast as he possibly could, feel the come drip through his fingers, but Felipe kept telling him not to touch himself, so he let the hand that wasn't pressed against the tiles reach around to feel the back of Felipe's head instead. And then he cried out, white flashing behind his eyes as his cock erupted. His thighs quivered of their own accord as he spurted everywhere, painting the wall white; the biggest load he'd ever seen. He sank to his knees, still coming, still swearing, still with Felipe's fingers inside him. He felt wasted, dirty, appalled, amazing. When Felipe pulled out, he felt empty, the post-orgasmic glow making him want Felipe's fat little cock in there, fucking him and fucking him until he couldn't speak or even remember his own name. 

He slid back to sit against the tiles. Felipe cackled softly and switched the water off before joining him, his own dick still crying out for attention.

“I don't think I can get up,” Rob said, his voice shaky. “That was... I mean... does it always feel... ?”

“A lot of the time, yes,” Felipe nodded. “When you...” He shrugged. “I dunno.”

“When I'm doing my best work?” Rob quipped, and was rewarded with a throaty laugh. 

“Your very best.”

Rob rested his head against the wall, sighing contentedly. He glanced over at Felipe's cock.

“If you wanna do something about that, you might have to give me a minute.”

“Is okay,” Felipe nodded, straddling Rob's thighs. He brushed his lips against Rob's jawline, enjoying the drag of stubble against his skin – Rob evidently hadn't shaved since before leaving the UK. Sliding his tongue into Rob's mouth, he took himself in his hand and began to jerk himself off; swiping the precome from the head of his cock and running it down the length of his shaft. He panted into the other man's mouth, and Rob gripped his hips, moving him back and forth in the same rhythm as the Brazilian was fucking his own hand.

“Come on me,” Rob said throatily, and Felipe did, covering his engineer's chest and stomach. He collapsed against Rob, out of breath, his hair sticking to his forehead and his lips full and reddened from kissing. 

“Rob, Rob, Rob,” he gasped.

“Mmm,” Rob sighed, smoothing a hand down Felipe's tanned back, feeling the knobs of his spine. He knew every inch of Felipe's skin, just as Felipe knew his. 

They lay there for a few minutes, bodies damp and sticky and warm with water and shower gel and come. Rob's back started to ache with the hard tiles and the weight of the driver, so he motioned for Felipe to get up. They switched the water back on, sharing another shower, full of soft touches, feather-light kisses and quiet giggles as they washed one another. When they got out, Rob padded into the bedroom naked, leaving wet footprints all over the shiny wooden floor. 

“I need to sleep,” he said, and collapsed onto the bed soaking wet.

*  
Rob opened one eye, wincing at how bright the daylight streaming through the gap in the curtains was. He was still naked, lying on top of soft, dove grey sheets. He stretched out his long legs, enjoying the sensation of cool fabric against his freshly-showered skin. His chin and lip throbbed, but to his surprise, his head felt fine. 

“Awake at last, huh?”

Felipe was standing in the doorway, sweaty hair over his eyes and a red t-shirt on, and through Rob's blurry, one-eyed vision, it was like looking at a younger him; like looking at a ghost. He felt a pang in his chest and felt too afraid to sit up and find out much of the day he'd wasted. Their last day.

“Well you must have tired me out, mate. How long was I asleep for?”

Felipe wrinkled his nose. “Only two hours. I went for a run. You want some more food after I have another quick shower?”

“Yeah, I'm fucking starving.”

Rob listened to Felipe hum tunelessly in the shower for a few minutes, before slowly raising himself up to get clean clothes from his bag. He pulled on a soft cotton navy shirt and some dark jeans, choosing not to bother with socks or shoes. He made a face at himself in the mirror, feeling shame and self-disgust at the darkening bruise on his chin, before shaking his head and padding into the kitchen. 

He could see right away that Felipe had made a decent attempt at clearing up the detritus that the two of them had created the night before. The cushions had been set back onto the sofa in some kind of order, and on the table Felipe had laid out sliced peaches with fromage frais, croissants and hunks of bread spread thickly with Nutella. 

The afternoon passed quickly. They tried to watch a movie; some superhero, blockbuster trash that Rob rolled his eyes at, but that Felipe was enraptured by. Rob snaked a hand across Felipe's thigh to his groin as they lay against each other on the sofa, out of boredom at the film at first, but then with more serious intent as he saw and heard the changes in Felipe's breathing.

He fucked Felipe, right on the sofa, the superheroes forgotten about. When Rob finally pulled out of the smaller man, it was dusk, and he protested at Felipe's insistence that they get up until Felipe pointed out that there was red wine in the cupboard and food in the fridge.

Rob ran a hand over the glass dining table, lighting two dinner candles and some tealights before opening one of the bottles of Malbec to let them breathe. When had he become someone who knew to do that? Someone who knew good wine and sometimes preferred to drink it over local ale?

Felipe fed him cold chicken and Parma ham, forkfuls of pasta dripping with fresh pesto, sundried tomato bread slathered in tapenade. 

“Making the most of the fact you can eat now, I see,” Rob quipped through mouthfuls of black olives.

“Is one benefit, yes,” Felipe laughed, mouth glistening and reddened from the Malbec. Rob didn't think he'd ever get bored of feeling those plump lips against his, nipping them gently with his teeth, feeling them slide wantonly up and down his cock. 

“It drives me insane, you know? How all the good things I always wanted for you never seemed to fucking work out. It makes me _ache_.”

Felipe shrugged and gave a winsome smile. He took a sip of wine, set the glass down, and shrugged again. The flickering candle shed light onto the side of his face that was scarred, and Rob bit the side of his cheek. Anything to cause himself some sort of physical pain to take away the emotional sting.

“This is life. Sometimes good things happens and sometimes bad.”

“See?” Rob exclaimed. “You're so fucking philosophical. Aren't you... I dunno. Angry?”

“I don't have anything to be angry about.”

Rob grabbed the bottle, filling his glass until there was none left. He felt like there was plenty to be angry about. One of the tealights gave one last valiant flicker before dying, and he winced. 

 

*

Rob wrapped a hand around the side of Felipe's face and kissed him; hot and searing. He wondered if he tasted of red wine and Marlboros. To him, Felipe would always taste like limes; memories of some of their first, sweet, tentative kisses that had been tinged with nerves and caipirinha. Felipe felt the other man's tears cooling on his cheek, and he pulled away slightly to flick his tongue against Rob's temple.

“I wish it was earlier,” Felipe whispered, knowing that the last time he had glanced at his iPhone it had read 2am, and that was already a dozen kisses ago.

“ _I wish we were still young_ ,” Rob replied.

“Don't,” Felipe sighed. 

Rob sank his head back into the soft pillow, Felipe's hair tickling his neck as the younger man lay against his chest. He ran a finger down Felipe's back, tracing slow circles in the small of it. The sheets they lay on were rumpled and damp.

“I'm fucking sick of having to do everything for the last time, you know?” Rob began, feeling Felipe's lips press firmly against his nipple. Four little kisses across his chest. They tickled.

“There must be something we can find to do for a first time, no?” Felipe replied, resting an elbow across Rob's chest and looking up at him wickedly.

And then there was a look, because looks were all they had ever needed. A _Does it hurt_? And a _I'd never hurt you, you know that_ , and then a _Just let me show you_ as Felipe's head dipped between Rob's legs, the older man's knuckles white as he gripped the sheets in fear and delicious anticipation. Rob's body jolted as he felt wetness against his body, first slippery trails from Felipe's mouth and then the tentative press of a finger.

“Fuck, your mouth on me feels... _fuck_ ,” Rob gasped, his cock already bobbing up towards his stomach, a thin string of precome bridging the gap. Felipe popped his head up to swipe at it with a finger, sucking it down deep into his mouth. The noise Rob made at the sight of that was obscene, louder even than the slurping noises Felipe began to make as he got back down to the task of preparing Rob with his long tongue.

Felipe inhaled Rob's scent as he dived down once more between his legs. He loved the paleness of Rob's body, the way the older man was full on fucking _trembling_ at each touch. He could feel himself harden at the sound of Rob's moans, how they were rapidly increasing in volume as Felipe licked and sucked. He slid a finger inside the other man, his confidence increasing as Rob hummed appreciatively, 

“Want you to fall apart,” Felipe whispered. “Like I fall apart when you do this to me.”

Rob reached down to tug on Felipe's hair gently.

“Stop fucking talking and just...”

The sound of soft speaking was replaced by the slick noise of fingers against flesh, the click of a bottle lid, the hiss of sighing through clamped-together teeth. When Felipe guided the head of his cock inside Rob, the Englishman gasped, gripped onto Felipe's shoulder as his body tensed up, his teeth pressed so hard into his bottom lip that Felipe was worried he'd draw blood.

“Relax, relax, relax,” Felipe soothed, desperately wanting to sink heavily inside of Rob. Holding back was killing him; the urge to start thrusting almost overwhelming.

Rob stilled and Felipe felt the body beneath him become more accommodating. He edged inside, squeezing his eyes shut at the sensation.

“So fucking tight.”

Rob was searingly hot inside. The tightness around Felipe's dick was blinding; Rob's walls clamped around his erection as Felipe began to thrust gently. He gave Rob a nod, and received one in return. _I'm okay_. Felipe placed a hand on Rob's shoulder as he began to fuck the engineer. Clumsy at first thanks to the unfamilar position and Rob's tension, he soon began to find a rhythm. Slow and controlled, sliding in and out of Rob, withdrawing completely a few times only to plunge back in. When Rob gave a yelp, Felipe knew the head of his dick had bumped against Rob's prostate, and he couldn't suppress his grin. _Now you're going to understand_.

“Going to fuck you hard now, okay?”

“Okay, okay. Jesus fucking Christ, do it.”

Felipe pulled out, precome dribbling over the inside of Rob's pale thighs. He pushed Rob's legs further apart, groaning at the sight of Rob's hole, wide and perfectly red, wet and inviting. Felipe got onto his knees and grabbed onto Rob's ass cheeks, pushing in hard. Rob swore out loud as Felipe bucked into him rapidly, hard thrust after hard thrust, and oh God he was being fucked so hard he thought Felipe's cock might go right through him, pin him against the mattress. Sweat ran down the back of his knees and he gripped onto the headboard behind him, beginning to push back onto Felipe's dick to allow the Brazilian to get even deeper. So _this_ was what all the fuss was about, this was why Felipe pleaded for it sometimes, why he craved Rob's tongue and fingers and dick inside him. He felt teeth scrape against his sternum, before there was a bite on his nipple, and he suddenly felt like he was falling, like he might actually fucking pass out. Felipe sucked and bit at both of his hardened buds, the sensation going straight to his dick.

Felipe pumped Rob's cock a couple of times as the engineer writhed on the bed, his face reddened and sweat trickling down the centre of his chest. He was making whining noises, no longer capable of coherent speech. His cock was thick and flushed, its purple head swollen and wet. 

“Fuckin' gonna...”

“Going to come?”

Rob tried to grasp at Felipe's shoulders, his head shaking from side to side on the damp pillow.

“Yeah, yeah... _fuck_.”

“Going to come over yourself, Rob?”

“Yeah.”

“Going to come while I'm still inside you? While I'm still fucking you?”

“Yeah.”

Felipe wrapped a palm around the back of Rob's calf, allowing him leverage to give several harder thrusts. The last one hit against Rob's prostate at what must have been the perfect angle, and he thought Rob might just descend into full blown screaming. The friction was just right for Felipe, and he knew that he was close to shooting his load soon too.

“You come first, then me. Okay?”

“Okay, okay,” Rob panted, his cock leaking freely now. “Just fucking... Jesus Christ... oh, FUCK.”

Felipe pounded into him twice more, twisting his fingers around the bulbous head of Rob's cock, the precome flooding over his hand. Rob spurted; come splattering all over his chest and stomach, and down Felipe's hand and wrist. Felipe leant downwards, smoothing the hot stickiness across Rob's skin before bending down to lick some, looking up at Rob with the other man's come covering his lips in a glossy sheen.

“Felipe, that's... fuck, that's...”

Felipe plunged his wet fingers into Rob's mouth, making him taste himself. With his cock still buried deep inside Rob, he briefly contemplated fucking into him until completion. The sight of Rob covered in his own come was too delicious though, and Felipe wanted to add to that wanton mess.

Rob yelped a little at the now-alien feeling of emptiness as Felipe slowly pulled out of him. Felipe grasped onto his own cock, getting up onto his knees so his dick was lined up with Rob's navel. Rob's now spent dick lay flaccid against his thigh, but he smacked Felipe's hand away, folding his palm around it, smoothing the head against the smears of come that were still on his own dick. 

“This feel good?”

“Mmm,” Felipe's head tipped backwards, his eyes closed as he thrust shallowly into Rob's grip.

“Come on me,” Rob rasped. “Do it.”

Felipe gave a groan and then his hips jerked once, twice, ejaculate spurting and then dripping over the top of Rob's thighs. He collapsed on top of Rob, kissing him lazily, the taste of sweat and saliva and come on both their lips.

“I don't think I can move,” Felipe sighed, spreadeagled on his stomach.

“Not even to suck me off a bit, clean me up?” Rob teased. 

“I'm never fucking you again,” Felipe replied indignantly. “I'm done, I'm empty.”

“That's old age, Felipe. How do you think I feel? Won't be able to walk for a week,” Rob said, arching his back and lifting a knee up. “Come on old man, that massive shower of yours is calling me again.”

*

By the time they were both clean, Rob sat up against newly-changed pillows, chatting softly about testing and seat-fittings. 

“Rob...” Felipe said sadly.

Rob looked down at his driver, his lover, his friend.

“Just... let me, okay Felipe? At least until the sun comes up. Let me at least pretend we still have next year.”

Felipe's eyes were teary as he bit his lip and nodded.

“Okay.”

Rob kept chatting, and to the reassuring sound of the familiar, Felipe fell asleep.

**Author's Note:**

> I said this was crap. But I hope at least it might encourage some others in the fandom to post something because I am sure I was not the only one who perhaps had written retirement!fic? Please?


End file.
